By Donn Moseley
It was April 2009, when I headed to the Orange County Fairgrounds to exhibit my work of K-9 Kool Hats at the Annual Pet Expo. Along with me, there were my three employees, and for those that have seen my booth, you recognize that to mean the four-legged type.
Yes, my dogs happily model our hats on a cushioned table inside our booth. They love their work, and we love the opportunity of being together in doing so. Close to our booth location was the adoption parade that takes place at the festival for the many organizations that hope to find new homes for their adoptees.
Unbeknownst to me, one of their candidates had wandered away from the adoption stage and found his way into my booth. The sight of any dog coming to my booth brings me joy, but rarely do I get one that comes on his own as this little feller did. He had the look of a wire-haired dachshund. I took him back to his guardians and resumed my work.
Sure enough, on Saturday—the second day of the show—all events continued, including the adoptions. And sure enough, the event of the previous day repeated itself. That little dachshund again wandered over to my booth on his own. When another close-by exhibitor witnessed this for the second time, she remarked that perhaps it was a sign I should well heed.
I had no intention of adopting a new dog at that time, especially during our doing an out-of-state show in California. But “that may be a sign” stuck with me. And on the third and final day of the show, I was led to have this little wanderer join our pack. Before the departure that day, we had our new member join our pack, and we named him Wally.
It wasn’t me who had made the decision: I was led by all-knowing God who ordained it. I probably knew that early on, but after sixteen years, I have more than living proof of this gift.
Wally was just the perfect dog. The perfect companion, the perfect pack-member, the perfect employee. He made—or at least attempted to make—friends with every other living creature he met. He loved every person, every dog, every cat, and even those animals of the wild he encountered. He just exuded friendliness and acceptance to each one.
To him, every human or critter was worthy of his friendship. And almost all of them responded unequivocally. He just had that gift. He was a dog who solely wanted to please, as if he was thinking of others more than himself. Hmmm… where have we humans been instructed on that?
There was nothing that I asked where he wasn’t eager to comply. He jumped at the call of his name. He loved his job, his playtime, his hikes, and he loved his Dad. Truly, he loved his life. He gave me so much and taught me so much right along with that. If you knew Wally, you were touched by Wally.
I’m writing these words now and sharing them with you because I recently had to say goodbye to Wally. He deserves a tribute for all that he gave over seventeen years of a glorious, happy, and giving life. He was truly a gift.
I know many of you will recognize him from my many shows at the Courthouse. It’s going to be very difficult to not see him on the working-models table this summer or in his Top Salesdog chair.
Even as I’m trying, through my current grief, I’ll do my best to always honor him. The gift of Wally was more than I deserved, but how true that is for most all that comes from God.
